Brother's Duty
by Giggles96
Summary: Following his brother's disastrous endeavour to enslave humanity, Thor is alone in his conviction that there is more to the God of Mischief than malevolence and indifference. He asks that Loki's life is spared and that his punishment is reformative as opposed to retributive. In return, he will personally carry it out. However, Loki soon realises that he'd much rather face death...
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I recently - *ahem* ****_*_****cough*****_ yesterday, _****- sat down and watched ****_The Avengers_****. Like many before me, I fell victim to Loki's charms almost instantaneously and decided that it was a character that I really wanted to explore.**

**Now, I'm fairly certain that this sucks so feel free to hate it, but I thought I'd have a go anyway. See what I could do.**

**Enjoy. It probably won't be very long.**

**Disclaimer: these characters do not belong to me, unfortunately.**

* * *

It wasn't, to clarify, even _remotely_, a fall from grace.

"Cheer up, brother. No need to look so pitiful."

Let's face it, he isn't called the God of Mischief for nothing, and surely no-one could _actually_ have been so foolish as to think that he wasn't going to adhere to the title.

When he was younger the pranks were small and inconsequential, nothing too remarkable, but as his magic grew stronger and Loki's resentment towards Thor simmered ever-constantly below the surface, it slowly turned a lot less harmless. So much so that, well, in his need to remove himself from the God of Thunder's shadow, Loki almost destroyed that dismal place they call Earth.

Calloused fingers wind around his elbow and hoist his scrawny arm into the air, scrubbing his armpits with the utmost care while Loki merely watches. Unblinking and impressively detached. As if it were happening to someone else.

"It saddens me to see you so troubled," Thor adds.

Loki grunts, a breathy equivalent of an eye roll, but otherwise remains impassive.

It would be nice if he could muster a sneer for his comically sanguine brother, but alas, he is much too weary. His limbs, burdened with great lethargy, are anchored in place by this insufferable delicacy thrust upon him, and Loki feels a curious sense of emptiness settle into each and every one his pores as Thor washes down his pathetically weakened body calmly and with clinical precision.

It is, in a word, humiliating, for the villain who once plotted world domination.

_Loki of Asgard,_ as he'd declared so conceitedly in the past, as if that _meant _something, of any value - raised as a prince with no knowledge of his true heritage, who was later driven to insanity. Or so… many presume.

"Come on, chump," Thor coos with a warm smile, if you would believe the giant capable of such indignity. "Grant me one of those delightful smiles that I have missed dearly. It has been…what? Three days? Any longer and I am afraid I will suffer withdrawal."

It's a lousy attempt at lightening the mood, an embarrassing excuse for a joke.

Loki glares - minus some of his usual heat - but Thor merely grins widely, as if he actually expects to be mimicked.

It's sad, really. And if there is one thing Loki does not do, it is _sad_. He'd always regarded it as an odd, whimsical emotion. One he did not need to see or experience.

"Please, Loki," Thor then frowns, even as he pours water down his brother's spine and proceeds to pat it down with a cloth. "_Talk _to me. Say something_, please_."

Loki pouts.

_No,_ it clearly says. _Leave me alone._

He turns his head away and stares fixedly at the tiled wall. And if his brother were to look carefully enough, - though acuteness has never really been his forte - he would be amazed by the slight quivering of the younger man's chin.

With an oblivious sigh, Thor returns to the task at hand.

The water is cooling fast, scarcely lukewarm at this point, and it will soon be time to get out.

Loki has been dreading that moment since the second he got _in_.

Is it not enough that he was stripped and bathed? Now he must be dried and clothed by a man who only weeks ago had been his _enemy _but now occupies the role of caregiver, whilst his legs are consumed by tremors at the very chore of staying upright and his arms dangle limply by his sides?

It is wrong. Yet he has done much worse.

Loki flicks his eyes to his brother as Thor brushes some wandering hairs from his sticky forehead and again, quietly observes. At first, Thor was unsettled by this, disturbed by the vacancy in his features and the lack of superior smirks or sharp insults that have been replaced with distant stillness. The intensity, the unrelenting _silence_, it gave him shivers. Now, however, he forces himself to ignore it, because otherwise he might forget that it is in fact his brother amongst the strangeness.

Besides, it is rare for Loki to do… _this_. But when he does, it lasts for days.

The others, they say that he is sulking, that it is part self-preservation, part stubbornness, and have now dubbed it his, _Time Out._

And no matter what, it is elicited by the same old thing. Time and time again.

He retreats inside his head and he won't come out until the spell… until it…

Thor grimaces, a slight twisting of his mouth for an instant, but Loki catches it and one brow twitches in what Thor has come to realise is a reserved frown.

Loki does it again - this time asking, _what is it? _

Thor finds it funny that this is how his brother opts to communicate when in _Time Out_ rather than simply voice what he is thinking. But maybe that is just him. Perhaps Thor himself should take note of his younger brother's tactics. He has been told, politely of course, once or twice, that he is far too loud for his own good.

Thor shakes his head. "It is nothing. Don't worry about it."

Loki rolls his dulled, green eyes, but Thor is just pleased to have a reaction. Any reaction.

"Alright, alright," he smiles faintly. "I will tell you. But, I warn you now, you aren't particularly fond of the subject matter."

The God of Mischief inclines his head in an impatient, _Yes, I understand. Get to the point._

With another deep sigh, Thor states with a trace of defensiveness, "I was merely pondering the ins and outs of the spell."

Loki stiffens.

"Yes, I am aware well of your displeasure," he says tiredly. "No need to make that face. It has been three days, though, so I was wondering…" Thor winces and casts his eyes to the ground.

It's silent for a few heartbeats.

"You-you were wondering when I'd crack," Loki finishes cuttingly, the harshness of his words losing some of the desired effect when his voice breaks from disuse, and speechless, Thor's gapes at him in astonishment.

He-he's _talking_. Already.

In a pretty awkward scenario - yes, Thor is equally discomfited - where it is least likely for him to do so.

This cannot be good.

"Oh, don't fret, dear brother," he says bitterly. "I'm not going to do anything rash quite yet. Couldn't have that, no. I am enjoying bath time far too much. It would be a shame if I were to suddenly become some clingy, _whimpering mess_," Loki spits. "Now wouldn't that be inconvenient? Why, I'd miss out on all of the fun."

"Brother, stop!" Thor suddenly reaches out and pries his fingers from where they grip the side of the tub so tightly. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up!"

"Ah, yes," he inhales sharply. "Because I am _so _fragile now, aren't I?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you are," Thor retorts angrily. "So give it a rest!"

"No! Let me go!" He struggles against his brother's grasp. "Get your meaty paws off of me!"

"Not until you quiet!"

"Argh!" His breathing is already laboured, chest rising and falling quickly, and he is beginning to feel light-headed. "Fine," Loki snaps. "Whatever. We all know what's going to happen soon enough anyway."

Thor freezes.

Aw, crap.

"_Loki_-"

"Save your words of comfort for later, _Thor_," he bites out and to his horror, tears spill over his sunken cheeks. Loki swiftly traps one with his fingertips and holds it out for inspection. Eyeing it warily.

What better sign of weakness?

All anger draining from his body, he slumps. And with his voice small and uncharacteristically defeated, Loki murmurs, "You're going to need them."

* * *

_Before…_

* * *

With an unforgiving push, he stumbles into the great dinning hall and for the first time, Loki feels a little ill at ease.

Nevertheless, he clears his throat and forces composure as he slowly becomes aware that the hall is far from empty and with their narrowed, unforgiving eyes, the people of Asgard, with whom he had grown up and been respected, gaze upon his gaunt, withering form.

"Oh, great," Loki mutters. "An audience."

Seated on the throne is Odin, one eye poring over him with noticeable distaste. To his side, Loki is startled to see Frigga, but she refuses to look up from the hands folded on her lap, which disconcerts him more than he cares to admit.

And then, of course, there is Thor.

Standing tall and proud, but with a lenient expression of kindness unlike anything Loki could have foreseen. In any case, he _is _the one who dragged him here. Shouldn't Thor be pleased to see that justice is finally being delivered? That Loki will pay for all the lives that have been lost?

It is confusing, that is for sure. But Loki cannot afford to fixate on that right now. There are far more _pressing _matters. And if anything, he'd like to be the one to begin.

With a wicked smile, he addresses the man he'd formerly called father.

"Well done, old man," he drawls in that subdued, acerbic way of his. "I dare say you pulled it off. That's an Midgardian turn of phrase, by the way. Encountered it on my travels." His tone is wonderfully demeaning as he elucidates mellifluously, "It means that your hope of intimidation has indeed been satisfied. I am positively _cowering_."

The trickster stands straight with his shoulders squared in defiance and yet somehow he manages to maintain an effortless air of flippancy.

Loki is neither concerned nor cowed.

No, the God is above all of that. He is beyond caring about the outcome of this modest gathering. Live or die, it no longer matters to him. There is no need to fear.

"I am pleased to see that you are in good spirits, boy," the All-Father muses. "One would have deemed it much more wise, however, to remain a touch more docile. At least when in the company of those who determine your fate, would you not agree? Decisions are such temperamental, trifling things, after all." He appraises the lesser God with a frown. "I could always change my mind."

Loki leans back, eyes slimming in amusement as a small smirk grabs hold of his lips like a hook - tugging and tugging, before levelling into an expression of playful glee. He wets his lips, green eyes dancing.

"No," he laughs. That soft, purring half-laugh. "No, I would very much doubt that. This-" despite his chains, Loki flutters one hand in an overly nonchalant, light-hearted manner, "-this _castigation_, if you will, has been…" He rolls his eyes in the back of his head as though judging his next words, mouth somewhat open. Meeting Odin's exasperated gaze without so much as a flinch, he carries on, "Well, it's been painstakingly considered, has it not? Trivial, maybe. Interchangeable…? Not so much."

Thor sighs. "Brother, if you would please stop antagonizi-"

Loki swivels around so fiercely that the God of Thunder takes an involuntary step back.

"I am not your _brother_!" he barks at once, face contorting with a rather feverish and unnerving rage as his veins pop up from under skin that is so flimsy and pallid in colour that Thor is unreasonably alarmed that it will split from the pressure. The slight gagging is a little on the over-dramatic side, although he is hardly surprised. "I am _monster_. A thing of nightmares. And _you_, everyone's favourite golden-boy," Loki scoffs, voice glaringly scathing as his lip curls with disgust, "You are Heir to the throne. The almighty _Thor_." Breathing hard, he pauses and spits through gritted teeth. "You and I? We are _nothing _to each other, understand? Are you really so dim-witted that you have forgotten?"

"THAT IS _ENOUGH_!" Odin booms, his fisted hand striking the arm of the throne with an ear-splitting _thwack_.

The room is silent you could hear a pin drop.

The only sound the rattling of Loki's chains as he shifts his weight with irritation and huffs.

"Now," the All-father continues, his hardened jaw just daring the trickster to interrupt, "Let the trial commence."

"If you must," Loki blows out a breath. "Might as well get it over with."

In hindsight, he really does regret his off-handedness.

* * *

**Thank-you for reading. Please let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry, I just couldn't resist another little instalment.**

**Disclaimer: sorry, folks, but this ain't mine.**

* * *

Scowling, the All-Father grinds his teeth for a moment as he massages his bushy chin, gathering his thoughts, before prodding in a sincerely curious and dimly saddened tone, "Do you, my son, _really _regret nothing?"

Loki is momentarily startled by the question, though it is certainly not the first time it has been thrown his way.

"Huh." His expression is thoughtful and he pokes his cheek with his tongue as if asked which topping he'd prefer on his pizza rather than if he held any remorse for the bloodshed of thousands. "Do I…_regret…_it?" The way Loki says it makes it seem like it is impossible to grasp such a foreign concept. Pursing his lips, he says, "Well, I wouldn't know, would I, _father_?" The emphasis on the last word said forced cheeriness. "Remorse, it is for the weak. Any emotion, surely, is for the weak."

At the glares of the spectators, Loki puts a hand to his heart, before saying laughingly as he noisily waggles a disapproving finger, "Now, now, before you all get your panties in a twist - another expression. Peculiar species, aren't they? - I must confess. I mean, it would be _wrong _if I were to take all of the credit. Those words of wisdom hail directly from our beloved _king_, as luck would have it!" Loki bites back a mischievous grin. "That _is _what you taught us, is it not?"

Feeling helpless, Thor watches on in dismay. How could his brother's mind have become so twisted?

"Now… I wouldn't want to disappoint you, father. War is an essential part of life, if I recall correctly. Without it… where would we be?" As if confused, he tilts his head to one side. "And you ask if I _regret _it? I apologise, _your highness_, but I do not understand."

Odin sighs.

Apparently deciding to dismiss Loki's derisive speech, he remarks almost casually, "Thor, here, has asked that you be freed. He even volunteered to keep a careful eye on you."

"I'm not surprised. The man's an optimistic sap. He cannot be taken _seriously_." Loki scratches his forehead in bewilderment. "For heaven's sake, how many time have I not sought to kill him? And yet he wishes to _absolve _me? " His voice rises with incredulity. "If you ask me, anyone foolish enough to insist that we look _on the bright side_ of life, deserves whatever they get. But hey," Loki shrugs, "What would I know? I'm just a cold-hearted criminal. If Thor wants to release a vindictive tyrant back into the world, then by all means, go right ahead. Yield to the moron with the hammer."

"I have not finished!" the All-Father rumbles. "But you, my dear boy, are seriously trying my patience! I may have to reconsider."

"No, father!" Thor barges in, eyes wide with panic. "You promised! Please," his voice softens, "I beg of you. Give me this chance."

Wiping his brow, Odin exhales resignedly.

"Very well," he grants. "As you wish."

Loki appears intrigued, but is his usual, dispassionate self when he prompts, "You were saying…?"

"I _will_ let you go," Odin proclaims, and the crowd theatrically gasps. "However, there are, naturally, a handful of conditions."

"Conditions…?" Loki repeats with a furrowed brow as he suddenly seems to grasp the reality of the situation. This is _actually _going to happen.

The All-Father is going to follow _Thor's _dim-witted advice. It's not a ruse.

"Aye." Unsettling the trickster, the All-father's lips coil into a deadly smile, and his stomach turns with sudden nausea.

Uh-oh.

"You've always been keen to boast of an expansive intellect, haven't you, son?"

"Yes…" he replies warily.

"So I imagine you are familiar with separation anxiety, correct?"

"Obviously."

"And as you have already be so kind as to point out, you _have _attempted to kill your brother on numerous occasions. And we really wouldn't want that."

"Of course you-" Loki freezes, breath hitching in his throat. There is a tense pause. "Are you suggesting…?"

The God actually rolls his eyes. "A spell, boy. Do keep up."

"But-but-" Loki is at a loss for words. "You couldn't! So ha! None of you are strong enough to cast an enchantment on the likes of _me_!"

"I had my suspicions you would claim to be too powerful. But, as you are well aware, no-one has complete immunity and as King, I am owed my fair share of favours from several realms. It wasn't difficult to find someone willing to lend a hand."

He gives a shaky laugh. "It won't work!"

"Oh, but it will. As soon as I drain you of your powers, we can begin. I doubt you will be capable of much of a fight."

Darting his gaze back and forth between a resolved Thor and jubilant Odin, Loki gulps at the realisation that there is no way out. "W-what are you going to do to me?"

"You will be shown the error of your ways, Loki," the All-Father declares resolutely. "Thor was against the idea of torture and I'll admit, I do not wish for you to come to any harm. However, a lesson in humility and empathy was clearly warranted. But fear not. Physically, you should not experience any pain. Though overall? I can promise you now, it will not be very pleasant. And until I am convinced that you have changed, you will remain in a near-constant state of helplessness, inexplicably unable to do some of the most basic things for yourself."

"Hold on, w_hat_?"

"Not only that, but there will be some more revelations about your newfound condition along the way. Although, I don't want to say too much. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

Unbeknownst to Loki, a man is slowly approaching him from behind, and in the younger God's distraction, the stranger is able to press his hands to the trickster's temples before he even has any time to register his arrival.

Loki cries out in pain as the sensation of being ripped apart consumes his chest.

He pinches his eyes shut, _feeling _his powers leave him - being eradicated from his centre where they were fastened around his heart.

_Aaaahhhhhhhhh._

The _agony_.

Is this how Thor had felt?

All of a sudden, it stops and exhausted, he falls to his knees.

Distantly, he hears the ancient words of being spoken in their native tongue, but he can't concentrate. Can't do a damn thing!

Loki raises his head a measly inch off of the ground, and blinks dazedly when all he can distinguish are blurry, unrecognizable figures before him.

Wincing as yet another round of pain slices through his head, Loki gasps, and with a flare of dazzling colour, everything goes black.

* * *

**Thank-you for reading.**


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